The last time she was here was with Dylan. If she closed her eyes, she could see him. When she opened her eyes, the room was empty, and only a lingering sense of Dylan remained. She felt a pinch to her heart and rubbed her arms as if to warm herself, though she wasn’t cold.
She stepped to the table and ran her hand along the old oak top, then looked around. Everything was as it should be. A bird stand loomed in one corner. A huge sink gobbled up the space of another, and between the two, a massive oven intruded into the square footage of the kitchen. Pots and pans and dried herbs hung from the rafters. There was the scent of life and death here, but that didn’t alarm her. Faldon had been their healer. His herbs and magic were sought by everyone.
She heard something, like a man clearing his throat. “Faldon?”
She took a step toward the door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. But for the makeshift laboratory, the house was achingly quiet. When she reached the door, a tiny mew came from the opposite side. Faldon was a great believer in rehabilitating creatures their world had damaged or considered dangerous. He called it his great social experiment. Always the scientist. She missed him terribly.
Kera opened the door and walked down the short hall to the living area. Peeking inside, she saw a fire in the fireplace and a man sitting in a chair. He sat at an angle that hid his identity, only revealing the swishing white tail of a cat he held on his lap.
Kera paused, somehow knowing it wasn’t Faldon. She must have made a noise, because the man leaned forward, and the cat hissed upon seeing her.
“Hush now,” Baun scolded, yet he swept his hand down the cat’s back before scratching the animal under the chin. “She’s no threat to you.” He set the cat on the floor and stood, waving Kera forward to a nearby matching chair. “Come in, please. I could use the company.”
He was dressed like a model from the human realm in a white T-shirt, jeans, a dark-brown leather jacket, and a pair of casual shoes. The only thing ruining the look were a few strands of white cat hair clinging to his pants, but he quickly brushed them off.
The white cat looked suspiciously similar to Lucinda, and it gave her a sudden chill. Lutines were crafty creatures and never to be trusted. Giving the cat a wide berth, Kera approached Baun. “Who is that?”
“I found her curled by the fire when I showed up. She’s quite an affectionate piece of fluff. She jumped in my lap the moment I sat down.” He motioned Kera to the chair beside his. When she sat, he smiled warmly. “I am glad to see you. You are far more interesting a companion than a purring dust bunny.”
“Thank you.” She tucked her hands beneath her thighs and nervously swung her feet. Though firsts were incapable of lying, at times there was a hint of insincerity in Baun’s tone. “What are you doing here?
“This is my home. My true home, remember? Faldon is my father.”
“Of course.” She felt silly now. “Has much changed?”
“Nothing, but this is Teag. Change comes to us on broken wings.”
She stopped swinging her feet and tilted her head, unsure how to respond.
“It is a metaphor. We have so many miraculous things, but lack the technology the human realm worships. If only we had both.”
“The speed at which the humans live life…it’s exhausting.”
“It’s exciting.”
“And damaging.”
“You experienced only a small portion of their realm and already you have determined what it values is—”
“Disposability.” The word popped out before she could stop it. Dylan was a prime example. His father neglected him. His mother abandoned him. His old friends forgot him. From the moment of his birth, he was a child without a real home.
Baun shook his head and tsked his tongue. “You have become jaded.”
“It doesn’t matter. My life is nearly gone.”
“Let’s not speak of sad things. Tell me, what is your one wish?”
She used to have so many. Now it felt pointless. “I don’t wish to chase shadows anymore. I want to see Dylan again.”
He stood and held out his hand. She took it and rose. His face turned grave, his voice sad. “If I could grant that wish, I would, but I cannot. Is there another, one I can fulfill? Something you love above all else?”
“I love to dance.”
“What is your favorite color?”
“Red. The red of my father’s roses.”
A smile lightened his face. “My favorite as well.”
He pulled her toward the front of the house. They were only a few steps away when the doors swept open, allowing them to step into an expansive ballroom filled with gaily dressed people. White marble shone from the floors to the columns that were sculpted with all manner of flora and fauna. Red roses burst from hanging vases along the walls and were stationed at every table. A smile touched Kera’s lips and she turned to Baun. He was dressed in an elaborate charcoal-colored suit any gentleman of his era would wear with pride, his ascot full, his waistcoat finely made. He handed his top hat and cane to a footman while another swept her cloak from her shoulders to reveal a glimmering red ball gown more beautiful than any she’d ever seen.
Baun swept her onto the dance floor, where they twirled along with the other couples. She changed partners with each dance, but somehow always ended up near Baun by the song’s end. She laughed from the sheer joy of the moment. It felt like forever and like the moment had only begun when Baun pulled her to a table laden with all manner of food and drinks.
“If you were my daughter, I would say you are a blushing new flower in dire need of watering. Need I ask if you are enjoying yourself?”
“Never. It’s lovely here.” She sipped and nibbled under his watchful eye, commenting on the beauty of the room and the couples around them. Baun had a fine wit and wicked tongue that made her laugh outright.
The lights suddenly dimmed and the edges of their dream blurred. Kera knew what that meant. Any moment she could be yanked away.
Baun bowed over her hand and smiled. “It has been a pleasant distraction, our shared dreams.”
“Why do people hate you so?” It was an honest question, for she couldn’t imagine hating him, ever.
His smile widened and he dropped her hand. “I am not hated. Only two men sought to control me. Your father and mine. They sent me here because they feared the passion I had for my people.”
That assessment was not quite right. She took a tiny step back and muttered, “You went on a killing spree.”
His face didn’t register surprise, hurt, or anger. It was as calm as the moonless night sky. “I punished those who threatened my people. What I did was no worse than what people do in any war. Innocent people are inadvertently killed. It isn’t right, but it happens.”
A shiver ran down her back. She concentrated on twisting a loose thread dangling from the beading that decorated the dress around her waist. He seemed so earnest, like there was nothing dishonorable about what he did. Was he right? Had his motives been pure?
The thread popped and the tiny red beads bounced along the marble floor like spilled blood. Kera pressed her hand to the spot, hoping no more fell. “Oh no. I’ve ruined the dress and it was so beautiful.”
“It matters not at all.” He pulled her hand away, and the dress was as it had always been. Searching the floor, she didn’t see any beads. Why was he able to manipulate the dreams so much better than her? It didn’t seem right, like she should pay more attention.